Daily rants, raves, and regurgitation of my weird life as a writer/mom/small dog technician, foodie, and movie nut.

April 27, 2019

I just realized today that I have not posted in a while and so I thought I'd do a catching-up post. Life has been pretty busy recently, but a good busy. I got a new job!

Now, generally speaking I have always had a rule about not writing about my job on my blog, especially my paralegal jobs. Lawyers tend to get very nervous when staffers write blogs. They are paid to get nervous about such things...

I thought it might be interesting to point out some ways the law office world has changed since I graduated from paralegal school in 1985 and started working.

My very first job in Knoxville was with a firm where my dad knew all the lawyers because his office was in the same building, and he used the law firm a lot. Dad was a trust banker, and many times needed help from lawyers related to wills, estates, trusts, and sometimes tax issues. So he knew my boss well.

The night before I started Dad sat me down and said: "They probably hired you because of me, so you need to always remember that. Work hard. Don't goof off. Always be polite and respectful. They are doing you a favor by hiring you because you have no experience. Don't embarrass me! I told them if you don't do a good job FIRE YOU. I won't hold it against them."

So here you see how The Old Boy Network works. Nepotism at its finest -- but with a catch. IF I had screwed around and truly NOT done a good job, Dad would have heard about it and I would have been in deep s**t. Dad wasn't kidding. He had a fierce work ethic. He went to work no matter how horrible the weather was, or how sick he was. He didn't believe in "personal" days for any reason. I would not have wanted to work for him!

In that first job there were some days it was really snowy outside and I woke up thinking, "I can't get to work! There's a big hill up to my apartment!" First time I had that thought the phone rang and it was Dad. "Bundle up and walk down the hill to the main road. I will pick you up in 30 minutes." He drove me to work. A lot of times that meant I was the only female in the office -- suddenly I was the receptionist, the secretary, the paralegal, everything. Good training, but stressful.

It was fun working in the same building as Dad. Many Fridays he would take me to lunch at a downtown restaurant called The Brass Rail, and we would eat their wonderful fried fish. Dad would collect me at 11:30 and we would walk over there, sit down, order the fish, eat chat, and leave. I was usually back at my desk by 12. Dad didn't linger over lunch. Ever.

One time I regretted working in his vicinity. I got home one night and the phone rang. It was Dad, livid. "I saw you walking down the street, SMOKING! Ladies do NOT smoke on the street! I better never catch you doing that again!" I reminded dad I was a grown woman and I could smoke wherever I wanted to. [I quit about ten years later after Dad died of cancer.]

I have never paid much attention to "ladylike" behavior, as anyone who knows me well will tell you. However, I have never consciously embarrassed my parents in public either.

My second paralegal job was for another firm where Dad knew all the lawyers, and it was also in Dad's building. However, I had decided to go to graduate school and this job was set up so I could make my own hours, fitted in around my class schedule. That was a huge blessing, as many of my classes were only offered during the day. I lost a lot of weight and got very fit walking between campus and downtown Knoxville where I worked.

The lawyers at the second firm were much more laid back, and I stayed there for 5 years.

Example: I was joking around with some of the younger lawyers one day and we were talking about money. I had very little money because of school. I laughingly said "I'd walk down Gay Street [the main road downtown] butt nekkid for a hundred dollars." One of the lawyers pulled out his wallet, slapped a hundred dollar bill down on my desk, and grinned at me. Of course, he was married, and I was really not interested, but I laughed. I also told my dad. That lawyer never even jokingly suggested anything like that again..

Being a paralegal in the 1980's was quite a ride. Most lawyers really had no idea what a paralegal could or should do. You couldn't go to school and get a degree in paralegal studies like you can now. When I went to The National Center for Paralegal Training here in Atlanta in 1985 it was the only program in the southeast. I could choose Litigation, Real Estate, Corporate Law, or Family Law. I chose corporate law. Then I finished and got a job as a litigation paralegal and never worked as a corporate paralegal. That's okay. Litigation is much more exciting.

The profession has changed tremendously since I started in 1985. Here are a few ways:

COMPUTERS

When I started my first legal job I didn't have a computer. Nobody did. The fax machine was considered really high tech and the office manager had to review every fax before it was sent.

About two years in, the lawyers decided to get the secretaries computers -- not the paralegals. We dictated into dictaphones just like the attorneys.

I had been a paralegal for 8 years and moved to Atlanta and I finally got my own computer. I was thrilled. I had taken classes in WordPerfect.

I was 34 before I got a home computer. It had no internet and was slow as molasses but I was thrilled.

CLOTHES

In my first job I had to wear business attire. Skirts, dresses, or dress pants. Pantyhose. Makeup. Suits were preferable. The term "business casual" wasn't invented yet. There was no casual -- not in downtown Knoxville anyway. I had just finished college and had no decent clothes. My mom took me shopping and I had to conform. To this day I think pantyhose were invented by the devil...

I always kept a pair of tennis shoes at my desk because I never knew when I would be told to walk to one of the courts. The county court was a few blocks away, as was the United States District Court, Bankruptcy Court, and every other court in Knoxville. I got a lot of exercise.

When I moved here to Atlanta in 1993 I thought I could retire my tennis shoes. Nope. I got to go to the local courthouses around here by car twice a month, but in downtown Atlanta there was enough walking so I wanted to wear tennis shoes.

FILING

Most lawyers generate a LOT of paper, every day. Every legal pleading has to be signed by an attorney and there is always a Certificate of Service saying a copy was sent to the opposing attorney. I have dropped what I was doing many times to help the secretary get all the bazillion copies made and stuffed into envelopes and to the mailroom before 5 o'clock. Then file copies have to go into the file.

Many times attorneys were nervous about mailing an important pleading and insisted I walk or drive to the courthouse, to stand there while the docket clerk took the filing and stamped FILED on my copy.

Nowadays everything is filed electronically, using a computer.

Legal files used to be all paper. Always. Often many heavy file "buckets" spilling over into many file drawers or boxes. Nowadays many firms have "gone paperless." Everything is scanned in and the entire "file" is electronic, with little or nothing being kept in paper files. Much easier on one's back, I can attest.

DEPOSITIONS

Almost all legal cases involve depositions -- where the lawyers get in a room with a witness and ask the witness questions, often for hours, with a court reporter there recording the answers. A person who has initiated a lawsuit [the plaintiff] almost always has to have their deposition taken.

It used to be it would take weeks to get the transcript back. Nowadays it usually happens in far less time. Court reporters talk into voice cones, their spoken words are immediately turned into typed words, and then it's just a matter of cleaning it up. In a real rush situation a lawyer can get a rough transcript within 24 hours.

Depositions are usually taken in the law office of the attorney whose client or witness is being deposed. Not always. One attorney I worked for here in Atlanta took a deposition in a Waffle House. Another time an attorney I worked with took a deposition in a hospital room, because the witness couldn't make it to the law office. Sometimes attorneys have to go to small towns and take depositions and I have to hunt around for a place where they can do the deposition -- a hotel room, the back of the library, etc.

I once had a lawyer taking a deposition in Virginia, near an amusement park. He loved rollercoasters. He asked me to set it up so right after the deposition he could change clothes and go ride the rollercoaster next door.

One time in Knoxville, the attorney had me sit in on the plaintiff's deposition because he had hurt his hand and couldn't take notes. I sat there and filled a legal pad with copious notes. Later the lawyer told me not to worry about typing them up because he was going to settle the case.

Okey dokey.

My new job allows me to work from home. I stay connected to the rest of the office by phone and computer. It's very doable. I can make my own hours. I much prefer this. I can still watch after Mom and Lola and be available if Michael needs me. Win win!

Below, a couple of photos of me and Dad, late 1980's. [He died in 1996]

April 07, 2019

Every once in a while I have the pleasure of hearing from someone I’ve interviewed and I have a chance to catch up with them. I interviewed my friend Jeff Joslin -- actor/model/director/producer, back in 2013 for a Twenty Questions column. Jeff has just written and published a terrific book called Pick Me! Pick Me! -- subtitled “how to break into the entertainment industry with little to no experience.”

Jeff had been a football player and then a businessman when the acting bug bit seriously in December 2005. He decided to pursue modeling and acting seriously, and used his marketing skills to market himself.

I want to interject here for a moment and say, I have acted with Jeff and he is thoroughly professional. In 3rd grade we were both in a play called Rumplestiltskin. Jeff had a small part as a soldier and suggested to the director that he and some other boys do a Russian dance -- huge hit with the audience. I had the rather difficult character role of The Miller’s Wife. (I was taller than everyone else, and chubby, so character roles were my third grade claim to fame. LOL)

I have been reading Jeff’s book Pick Me! Pick Me! and it has a lot of great information and advice to aspiring actors. Jeff: “My book is aimed at helping people break into the industry if they don’t have much experience. Models and actors will find it helpful.”

One great takeaway is this: you don’t have to be gorgeous to get work. There is plenty of work for people who look ordinary, and there are also “character” roles that need filling. Jeff has actually lost out on occasion because he is TOO handsome and the director felt like he would draw too much attention away from the lead actors. Example: “I was in a scene in Sex and the City and I got moved, and told, “You look too dapper. You’re too good looking for that scene.”

Jeff has been on sets with some very famous people – Richard Gere, Josh Brolin, Emily Blunt, Tyler Perry – just to name a few. That’s one of the perks of what he does.

He urges folks trying to break in to showbiz to not limit themselves to only acting. Jeff has worked as a stunt man, an extra, even a hand double. As Jeff explains, “I was Steve Martin’s hand double in “It's Complicated.” I was rolling croissants in the bakery because my hands look like his. I was Josh Brolin’s hand double in Men in Black III. They don’t want to waste the actor’s time doing stuff like that so a lot of times they will use doubles.”

The process of getting cast in commercials, TV shows, and films is nowadays easier than it used to be. Jeff does a lot of auditions on digital video, and sends them to casting directors. That has allowed him to live in Orlando since 2015 and still get work, although he is in the process of moving back to his hometown of Knoxville at the moment.

If you want to keep up with what Jeff is doing, like his Facebook page Jeff Joslin Producer/Actor. Jeff has posted some of his taped audition videos on there.

Jeff is a multi-talented guy. In addition to shooting his own audition videos, he has written, produced and directed two films, Fishbait, and The Quarry.

I can't wait to see what he is doing next.

Oh, and just an an FYI -- Jeff has three handsome and multi-talented sons, too, and one adorable grandbaby.

April 03, 2019

Today marks the 12th anniversary of the day I adopted Michael! It seems like ages ago and it seems like yesterday. Such a happy day for me.

I copied below the journal entry for April 3, 2007, the day of the adoption hearing. After the hearing I had to leave and fly home and wait for everything to be finalized. I returned to Kazakhstan in early May and we did outprocessing and came on home - an exhausting few days and a really long trip home, but so worth it.

To commemorate the day, I took Mike out to dinner tonight. He only remembers bits and pieces of the adoption day. I will never forget that day! I am so glad I blogged about it. I thought it would be interesting to share that blog.

It has been a much easier day than I had expected – in fact, pretty low key. No drama, very little tension. The most tension came from the fact I wanted to use the bathroom during the entire court hearing, but I was too nervous to run down the hall and find a ladies’ room – I was afraid I would miss something important.

Igor picked me up at 9:45, and already had the ministry of education lady in the car. We drove to a courthouse that looked like any other courthouse, pretty much. There was a small parking area next to it, and the mud was ankle deep in the lot – but I didn’t realize until I stepped out that it was completely frozen mud, so not bad. I had worn my boots, just in case.

We checked our coats downstairs, in the entryway. There were a lot of folks sitting around there. We walked up three flights. I was glad I had on pants, not a skirt and heels.

The judge’s outer office had a desk and a hat rack and several chairs, and a printer. Nothing special, except for the apple green walls. Michael was dressed in his court wardrobe and was there with Tatiana, the orphanage representative. Sholpan, my agency coordinator, was already there.

I gave Michael a hug and a kiss. We waited for about 20 minutes.

While we waited, the prosecutor came in. She was a young woman in her 20’s, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a military style uniform. Igor said they all wear uniforms. Her boots were a weird combination between brown leather cowboy boots with an embossed design, and the typical high boots with spiked heels that all the women here wear. She also had long purple fingernails.

We first went in without Michael. The judge is a short, chubby lady of Kazakh ethnicity, with a little wave of gray in her hair. She sat at an ordinary looking desk. In front of it were two small tables, and about 5 feet away from the tables were about 8 chairs, lined up against the wall. Igor and Sholpan and I sat in the chairs.

The prosecutor and a court reporter sat at one small table. Tatiana and the ministry of education lady sat at the other table. There was a big Kazakh flag in the corner behind the desk.

The judge made some preliminary remarks, and said something about me being able to get copies of everything. I assume she meant Michael’s records. I want copies, of course.

She asked me my name, my date of birth, my occupation. She asked where in America I lived and I said Atlanta.

She told me that Michael was from a very bad background, and his mother was an alcoholic, and didn’t take care of him, etc. I won’t go into all of it here because it’s too private. The judge didn’t say a lot about it, just the facts, and asked me if I was aware of all that and did I still want to adopt Michael. I said yes, of course.

I don’t recall all the questions I was asked, but I will mention here the ones I remember.

The “speech” that Americans are told they will have to give can be pretty brief. I just said I have a daughter and I wanted a boy, and I decided on Kazakhstan because I have friends who have adopted from Kazakhstan.

The judge asked me how much my income is, and I told her. She asked if I thought that was enough to support two children. I wanted to say well duh, why am I here?! But I figured sarcasm was a bad idea. I just said I make enough, but also I live with my mother and she helps financially so no, I didn’t think there would be a problem.

In Russia, I was asked what I would do if I was dating a man and he didn’t like kids. This judge asked me the same insane question, except I think she said if the man wanted to marry me but didn’t want my kids - I replied I would never even date anyone who didn’t like kids and want my kids. [If I were to be completely honest I would say I have no interest in dating anyone right now, and not in the foreseeable future – I have Enough on my plate!]

She asked me if the house was in my name, and I said it’s in my name and Mother’s name, jointly. She looked through the book of photos I brought.

She asked me if I am ready to mother two children and take on that responsibility, and I said yes.

At some point it was mentioned that my daughter still speaks Russian. That was a big point in my favor, I felt. I also said I speak Russian, and that got a laugh. I always say “Ya ploha gavaroo parusski” which means literally “I speak Russian badly.”

The judge asked me if I can help Michael forget his past. I said I don’t think he will ever forget, but being in a loving family will help him to have a good life going forward. There seems to be a prevalent attitude here that when bad things happen you should just magically “forget” – I didn’t see any need to tell her I feel we need to talk about emotions and process painful feelings and memories so they don’t control us. I figured that might lead to an argument.

The one question she asked me that was really hard to answer was: “Now that you have spent time with this boy, what do you think of him?” Big tears came, and I grabbed Igor’s hand and said “Oh boy, I really don’t want to cry!” – and he translated it! I didn’t mean for him to do that. Everyone laughed. I just said “He is such a sweet little boy. He is SO smart. He has a really good attitude. I just love that little boy.”

The orphanage rep, Tatiana, spoke next. She described Michael as a good boy, with a good attitude, who doesn’t let his limb difference keep him from doing anything. She said he doesn’t want help – he prefers to do everything himself.

She said she had observed me with Michael and he has a good relationship with me. The judge asked her if Michael was just being good around me because he wants to be adopted. Tatiana said no, he is good boy all the time, and he couldn’t keep that up if it wasn’t his real personality. Good answer!

The ministry of education lady spoke next and said it appeared Michael and I have a good relationship and I will give him a good home. It was a short speech but that was the gist of it.

They brought Michael in. He stood next to me and I patted his back. The judge asked him his name. He said firmly “My name is Michael Robert Thompson.” He wouldn’t even say his Russian name. The judge asked him if he was OK with changing his name, and he said yes. Igor described the process of me letting him choose his name, and Michael affirmed he wanted to change his name.

The judge asked him if he wanted to be adopted and go to America and he said yes. The judge asked him if he liked living in the orphanage and he just said “No.” That got a laugh. Michael didn’t hesitate or equivocate he just said NO. [Well duh, what child wants to live in an orphanage?!]

Michael was sent out again, and the prosecutor spoke for a long time, some legal jargon. Then we went outside to wait. We had been in the chambers for about 40 minutes. We waited about 20 minutes. We all went back in, everyone except Michael, and the judge read a piece of paper saying the adoption is granted and will be final in 15 days. I grinned, and hugged everyone. I thought I would cry, but I didn’t.

I went outside and grabbed Michael and gave him a big hug and kiss and told him in Russian “I am your Mama!” He grinned big and hugged me back. The judge came out and saw us and said something but I forget what – it was positive. She was smiling.

We left the judge’s office and I went and found a bathroom, and we got our coats. Igor pulled the car around, and we settled in with Tatiana and Michael.

We took Tatiana back to the orphanage. Michael changed clothes while we were there. I also met the director – a short Kazakh man in a suit, who smiled warmly. I took a photo with the assistant director and Tatiana, who were instrumental in helping me.

The caretaker came back down with Michael and said he had gone upstairs and told everyone about the court hearing, and that his mama had on makeup and looked beautiful. He IS the sweetest boy in the world!

We went to the Doner Café for lunch, at Michael’s request. He didn’t play much in the play area, but there weren’t any of his buddies around. He ate fried eggs and a salad for lunch, his choice. I had chicken shashlik [shish kebabs] which were very tasty, and French fries. We got assorted cookies and baklava for dessert. I told Michael his Uncle Bruce loves baklava.

Igor dropped us off here at the hotel, and Michael and I spent the afternoon together. We looked at photos on the computer. We watched some TV. He said to me in English a couple of times “I need bathroom.” So he knows one very important phrase.

We knocked on the door of one of the other families and got 11 year old Caroline and went to the gym, and she and Michael played with the big beach ball for about 45 minutes. Michael made a huge effort to hoist the ball over the high net but it was tough. He fell a number of times. He and Caroline played some one-on-one soccer and he had a blast doing that. I think he has the ability to be a really good soccer player.

After Caroline had to leave at 3:30, he showed me his knee that he had scraped. We went upstairs so he could cool off and I put some Neosporin on the knee and a bandaid. He drew a beautiful picture for Granny and Alesia.

When Igor came in at 4:30 he had his wife with him, which was good, since she is going to tutor Michael in English while I’m gone.

I gave Michael the teddy bear I had brought for him. I also gave him the disposable camera, so he can make photos of his friends. I had Igor read to him the letters from Mother and Alesia. I asked him if he wanted Igor to read the letter from me and he said no. I think he can read it himself.

I gave him the calendar with Atlanta scenes on it and we turned to April. I marked on there today, court day, and we talked about the timing of me coming back. I said as soon as I knew the day, for sure, Igor would let him know.

I said to him the following:

“I hate having to leave you and go back to America. I will miss you so much. I want you to know that when I am gone I will pray for you every day. I pray for you every day now. I wear this cross to remind myself that God is always with us and he watches over us. God answers all prayers. When you come home we will talk more about God. Michael, I know you have had some really bad experiences in your life. I wish I could erase those things, but I can’t. However, in America you will be very loved. Granny and Alesia and I will all help you to learn English, and help you with everything. Even Coco will help you, I bet.” [that got a smile]

Igor and Michael gathered up all the presents and took them to the orphanage to give out for me. I was glad to hand over that chore. Igor helped me by writing the names in Russian on the tags.

When it came time for him to go, I hugged Michael tight for about a minute and kissed his head. I told him I loved him. I walked downstairs and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. It was very hard to leave him. I had to try hard to not cry. I didn’t want him to see me like that.

I came right up to the room and started working on this blog. It helped to settle my mind. I also called Mother and Alesia.

Dinner was low-key. After everyone ate, I served a cake I bought at the Doner Café for dessert, and we all celebrated Michael’s adoption. I had thought about going out but changed my mind. I wanted to hang out here with the other American parents. They have become my surrogate family here, and made this experience so much easier than I had thought it would be.

I do not know when I will be able to do another blog entry. I am not even sure what hotel I will be in tomorrow night or if it will have an internet connection. I will try to post asap and let everyone know the continuing story. It ain’t over yet.